Who I Am
by Zadia Grey
Summary: AU SLASH HP RW A story of 2 teenage boys trying to find romance. Ron is a punk and Harry is more clean cut. What happens when a friendship becomes something more? First 3 chapters revised
1. Bad Day

**Author's Note**

Okay, so this didn't start out as a Harry Potter fanfiction. Really, it's an original story I had been working on at my leisure for a few years. I think it's pretty good for some reason. . . It may not be, but I don't really care. Sense I couldn't put it up as an original, I just changed the characters around and POOF! Instant HP SLASH!

There's a little more sex in this than there is in most of my stories, so be warned! It's not outright porn-ish, but still pretty heavy.

Disclamer: I don't own Harry Potter, just the story.

Enjoy and Review!

_**Who I Am**_

_**Chapter I**_

_**Bad Day**_

It's freezing cold, raining, and I'm stuck walking home. No body in my family could take me, I have no car (yet), and no friends to go along with that. I stopped riding the bus because I didn't like the driver and he didn't like me (much like almost everyone else in the world).

Why? Why this abandonment you ask? Well, it was nothing I did by choice. I didn't want my life to be this way. Really, I didn't want to be this way! I never wanted to be . . . well . . . gay. A homosexual if you will. Big whoop.

Yes, that's why I have no real friends or family. My parents won't even let me tell my grandmama because she'd be very likely to have a heart-attack right on the spot. I wouldn't blame her--or them. Why do they have to treat me this way? Why not accept me the way I am? Well. . . Why can't _I_?

I have no clue how it got around school about my sexuality. Maybe they guessed? Nah. I may be gay but I don't act it--or at least I _try_ not to. Anyway, they figured it out and now I'm widely avoided. I didn't really have friends in the beginning so it's not too big a change, but this way. . . This way I haven't even got a chance. Although there is one guy who is pretty nice to me. I may have a little crush on him, but. . .

Ronald Weasley was probably more a punk than he was anything else. I never really saw him with any particular group. He just drifted around and talked to anybody he felt like talking to. I had watched him do this at lunch. He wore mostly black with spikes and chains. His crimson hair was usually spiked a bit, but other times natural so it fell around his ears. I guess it depended on his mood--or if he wanted to take his time on it or not. His eyes were blue and let me tell you, those eyes are _so_ amazing. I got a good look at them not long ago when a group of guys tried to beat me up and he pulled them off of me.

It was Draco Malfoy, a jock, if you must know. Every body finds him gorgeous so he thinks I do too because I'm gay. He despises me for who I am and doesn't want me to even _look_ at him. This was one of those days when I looked.

Ron put an arm around me and walked me off campus. I was pretty quiet, probably in shock, but he was talkative.

"What's your name?"

"Harry Potter."

He held out a hand. "Ron. Ron Weasley."

I took his hand.

"You're the gay guy, right?"

"Yeah. Lucky me."

He laughed and added: "Have a boyfriend?"

I was quiet a moment, unsure of where this question was going. "I don't even have a _friend_. I'm a single gay man in a town of homophobes."

"There _are_ other gay guys on campus you know."

I considered this. "Probably not my type."

"What's you're type, then?"

Silence again. I frowned up at him. "I'm still working on that one."

"So am I."

Silence.

We were to a safe place not far from my house.

"I'll talk to you later, okay?"

I nodded. "Sure."

I smiled just thinking about that.

Since then he's been the first one to actually wave and smile in the halls at me, saying "Hi Harry!" First time he did that I jumped around as if a gunshot had gone off. Very cool.

But, anyway, on to the present--

As I said, it's raining nonstop, I'm dripping wet, and on the brink of a vicious cold. Could things get any worse? Okay. . . Maybe I shouldn't say that. I could jinx myself.

Some headlights flashed over me from the back. I turned, putting my thumb out. I usually don't hitchhike unless necessary and it is obviously necessary. They went by, giving me the finger and splashing water in my face in the process. Wouldn't you just _love_ to be me?

I reached the bridge that would take me home. It was only a couple of miles now, but it would still be better with a ride.

Halfway across the river some more lights flashed over my back and I turned, but didn't put my thumb out. They'd never let me--

_What the hell?_ They stopped. _There is a God! _

He rolled down the window of the Jeep and smiled through the water. It was Ron.

"Hey Harry! Need a lift before you catch your death, or is that what you're here for? Suicide? I stay with you for your last hours if that's it.. . ."

"Ha ha, very funny, Ron."

He ran his fingers through his red hair and smiled. _Wow, he really is gorgeous. . . _"You getting in or what?"

"I don't know. . ."

"Aw, c'mon! Please?"

Was he begging me to ride with him?

"Alright." I smiled and went forward.

Ron leaned across the seat and opened the door for me. I slipped in and smiled at him. "Why. . ?"

"We loners need to stick together!" he grinned and gently punched my shoulder. "That's why."

"I never thought of you as a loner."

"Yeah, well, just don't label me. I hate that. This whole group thing is just to cut others down."

I grinned. "I could get to like you."

I looked at him and then down at myself. I was in a white collar shirt and kakis. He was in a black shirt with Spongebob Squarepants looking very dried out saying "Water would be nice" and jeans. We were so different . . . but our beliefs were just the same.

"So where do you live?"

I was silent for a moment. "I'm not so sure I want to go there anymore. . . " _I'd rather stay with you. _

Quiet fell over us like a blanket. Then Ron smiled.

"I get it. Prefer my house? I'll get you some dry clothes and take you home when you're ready," he held up a fist. "Makeover party!"

I laughed. It was impossible to be serious with Ron around.

The house was a small one with only one story. All the curtains were drawn and all the lights off. It was the most inviting house I'd ever been to.

We drove under the garage and got out.

I began in the door, but Ron grabbed me and picked me up from behind in both arms. "Make way for the married couple!" and he took me over the threshold. He sat me down on the hardwood floors and took my hand, dragging me to his room.


	2. First

_**Who I Am**_

_**Chapter 2**_

_**First**_

"Your parents--"

"Don't push me to talk about them."

"Bad relationship, huh?"

"Yeah."

He pulled out a black shirt with a rose rapping around a sword. "How's this?"

"Good." I smiled at what my parents would say to me coming home with that on.

"It's the homosexual thing, isn't it?"

"You bet."

He nodded. "That's why you have no boyfriends?"

I just nodded back. I wanted one, very badly.

I turned to the mirror on the wall by the foot of the bed and looked at my short hair. I wanted long hair also. Ma makes me cut it at least every month.

"You'd look good with longer hair, too."

My head snapped around to look at Ron.

"I read faces well." He shrugged.

I pulled on the jeans he gave me. We were really about the same size; I was just a bit shorter. I turned to face him. "Good?"

Ron simply nodded. "You'd look good in anything."

I arched my eyebrows and cautiously sat down on the foot of his bed, just next to the red-head. Was he hitting on me . . . ?

"That Draco guy. . . I'm sure he's noticed."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked trying to ignore the fact he had been hitting on me.

"He likes you." He said this a bit _too_ offhandedly.

"_What!_" This made me nearly fall off the sheets. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. He's a total playboy who's slept with just about every girl on campus. Not to mention he hits me if I so much as _look_ his way and--"

"He hits you so he can get a chance to touch you . . . Without raising suspicion. He's got a reputation to uphold and all. . . "

I looked away. This theory did make some since, but it was still far too hard to swallow. I guess I never though of myself as being liked by . . . Well, anyone.

"Ever notice how closely he watches you? That's why he's always looking back when you sneak a glance. Not to mention why he pounds you every time . . . So you won't think he was gazing longingly when your back's turned." Ron folded his hands under his chin while holding his elbows up, fluttering his eyelashes. "'Sigh. Harry is so damn sexy! I just want to screw him all night long!'" He said this in a falsetto, keeping in character. "Clearly, you've spoiled him for other women, Harry."

I reached over and punched his shoulder. "Shut up!"

"Okay okay!" Ron held up both hands as a signal of surrender. "But, can I just say you would look even better if you lost the glasses?" He reached across to me and took off the round spectacles that framed my eyes. "You have contacts, I presume?"

I gave a weak nod. I wasn't used to not having the glasses on. I always wanted them as a sort of barrier.

"Hmm. . . You have pretty eyes, too, Harry."

My head snapped back to Ron. "You think?"

He nodded and got up and left the room only for a moment, then came back with a towel. "Not that wet hair isn't sexy either, but. . ." He wrapped my head in the towel, drying me gently with his hands. I closed my eyes, enjoying the contact. I felt the man run his hands from my hair to my chin and stop there. His hands still moved a little bit, but that was just to keep me thinking he was still drying and that was all. I opened my eyes to see his blue eyes looking carefully at my face.

"I can do this myself, Ron." I smiled.

"You wear makeup?" Ron asked this as if he hadn't heard my last statement.

I frowned slightly. "Foundation." I said simply. How could he tell? Sure, the rain would have washed it off, but. . .

"You have a bruise right there," he tapped a spot on my cheek. "Where'd you get it? Draco?"

I forgot about the bruises. Damn rain.

"No. Vernon."

"Who's Vernon?"

"My step-father. I told you we had a bad relationship. He hates me because. . . Well, you know. . ."

Ron gave a slight smile. "Yes, Harry, I know." He rubbed his thumb on my bruise gently. I had never been handled so gently before. The truth was: I really liked it. I liked Ron. . .

His free hand pulled the towel off of my shoulders. He pointed at my jaw now. "There's another one here. . ."

"Yeah. I'm sure I must be covered with the damn things by now."

Ron did something completely unexpected just then. The free hand now wandered around my waist, two fingers gently pushed themselves under the hem of my jeans. My heart began to beat faster at the feeling of his hands on me. This was a whole new feeling. . . Then, he leaned forward and touched his lips to my jaw, just over the bruise. Then he moved his lips up to my cheek. I put my arms around his shoulders.

"How far have you gone with a guy, Harry?" Ron said this in my ear, lips scarcely gracing my lobe.

I turned a small bit to look at him, but all I could see was his soft blond hair. I wasn't sure if to answer that or not. I'd never talked about my sex life before. Whether it was to be answered or not, my mouth answered without much consent from me. "I've gone nowhere with guys."

"Ah. . . Never kissed by a guy?"

I shook my head. "Hm-mh."

I felt him turn his head so I could see him more properly. Our noses brushed. "In that case. . ."

Ron took my lips with his. My whole body seized up for a moment, I couldn't move. There was a soft tingling behind my lips, urging me to kiss back. I opened my mouth to him and began pulling him closer, running one hand through his hair. The tingling had now spread to my whole body. I wanted more than a kiss from him now. I never wanted anything, or anyone, quiet so badly before.

Ron let go and blew softly on my now wet lips. "How was that for a first kiss?"

"God. . ." I whispered. That was the only word my lips would let escape.

He chuckled softly. "I'll take it that you liked it."

I nodded and pulled forward for another. His lips were so soft and they tasted of banana flavored chapstick. . .

"No." Ron whispered, pushing me back with a single hand. "I'd prefer this didn't go any further. Not tonight, anyway. I. . . " he touched my cheek tenderly. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You just want to be friends?" I felt anger float through my veins, replacing the passion they had held just a moment ago. This was crazy. _I don't want to hurt you_! Too late for that.

"Yes. Just for now."


	3. Family Affair

_**Who I Am**_

_**Chapter 3**_

_**Family Affair**_

"Faggot! I didn't know you still lived here! Surprised Dad and Lily haven't kicked you out, just for what you are." That was Dudley, my loud-mouthed step-brother. He was in college at the time and only dropped by to see Vernon, my step-father and his biological father.

"Be quiet, Dudley," Vernon shouted from the kitchen. He entered wearing his apron and carrying a spatula. Vernon was about my height but was much heavier than I. He was only about thirty-five or so but his hair was already graying and his hairline had begun to recede. The wrinkles on his forehead also added to his age. I didn't blame him; poor man had to raise Dudley after all. I was only seventeen and I felt about fifty when I was around my brother. Just his voice could add on to a person's stress and give them an unwanted migraine. "And, Harry. . . What the hell are you wearing?"

I looked down at the long black shirt and baggy jeans. I had forgotten all about that. . . "I walked in the rain for a while until a friend gave me a ride home. We swung by his house and I got a change of clothes, that's all."

Both men rose their eyebrows. "_He?_"

"Just a friend." I sighed, exasperated. "Nothing happened." Even though, I wish something had and we were more than 'just friends'. . .

"Liar! You got laid, didn't you Fag?"

"Shut _up_, Dudley!" Vernon rubbed his temples. "Dinner will be ready by seven. Both of you. . . Just _try_ not to kill each other before then? For me?"

"Yes, sir." we both said monotonously.

If it was just me, Vernon would have struck me one. . . That or I'd get a long scolding. Now, when his son was around, he became more subdued. Tired from listening to Dudley's irritating, loud voice no doubt.

"So tell me: you guys screwed like rabbits, right?" Dudley laughed in an almost maniacal way. "How was it, Queer?"

I turned away and began up the stairs to my room. This immediately fired him up. Dudley hated for people to turn their back on him. He began after me.

"Where are you going?" he enquired in a dark voice.

"Why do you care?"

"I care because you don't walk away without answering me. You get your ass beat in that way, remember?"

I kept my mouth shut. _Just keep on walking. . . _

Dudley's large, tough hand grabbed my skinny arm.

"Hey! Don't touch--" At that moment, his fist collided with my jaw. I was thrown against the hall wall holding my injured chin. "Bastard!" I growled.

Dudley didn't stop there. Oh no. He grabbed my arms and held me to the wall. Fear grew inside of my heart, but I chose not to show it and kept my best poker face on. I gave another growl and tried to pull away. He pressed his hand to my throat to stop my struggling.

"Why they haven't kicked you out by now I may never know." Dudley hissed in my ear. His lips almost touched my lobe. He was so close I could feel that he was in need of some chap stick. . . "Dad must just want you around so you can play Cinderella. Lily. . . Maybe it's because she needs a shopping buddy. Or perhaps just because she'd feel guilty throwing her own son out in the cold. Or should you be called her daughter? Hmm . . ."

"Get off me, Dudley." I hissed back. The anger had begun to build inside again. It pulsed through my veins, heating my blood. I wanted to hit him so badly my fists began to itch. Suddenly, a smile erupted on my face. There was only one way to get him off of me—I kissed him on the cheek.

"YEAAAAH!" Dudley jumped back and hit the wall opposite of me.

I gave a content smile and turned back to enter (and lock) my room until Vernon finished dinner.

When I sat my things down on the bed, I pulled off my glasses and began a search for my contacts. I knew I had some, it was just a matter of finding them. I got them when I got the glasses, just for in case something happened to them. After digging out a few drawers, they turned up in my bathroom. The next matter was going to be getting them in without poking my eyes out. . . I hadn't practiced much because I never expected to actually _use_ them. Now that Ron wanted me to . . . Well, what the hell? How hard could it be?

I tilted my head back and held one contact over my eye with one hand while holding my lid open with the other. Just as the thin layer touched my eye, Dudley decided to continue his threats.

BANG BANG BANG! "Harry! Queer!"

This sudden ramming on my door caused my finger to collide with my eye. "DAMN IT!" I cursed loudly while grabbing my teary eye. "What do you _want_!"

"You! _Now_, Queer!" was the response.

"Not until dinner. I'm busy. I have more to do than be bullied by you."

"What was that?"

"NOT NOW!"

. . . "Are you back-sassing me?"

"DAMN STRAIGHT, NOW LEAVE ME BE!"

I heard him give a snort. I knew it was because I used the word _straight_ in that sentence. No matter. He wasn't _my_ problem. My problem was getting these contacts in before school the next day. I held the next above my other eye.

BANG BANG! "You still there, Harry?"

"No, I jumped out the window to my death."

Dudley gave a slight chuckle. "Yeah, real cute, Queer."

"Stop calling me that!" I held the contact up again.

"Tell me, who's this guy you slept with tonight?"

"I didn't 'sleep with' anybody! He's just a friend of mine!" I lowered the contact and my eye tried to close to keep this invader out. I sighed. This one was going to be more stubborn than the other.

"Friend. Riiiiight." He said this very unconvincingly.

I took a deep breath and said the only thing that I knew would shut the bastard up. "Fine, we had sex. Now get off of me."

Dudley laughed in a triumphant way. "How was it?"

"Mind blowing. Now _leave_." I sighed and sat the contact against my eye and blinked a few times to get used to the feeling. I then looked around to see how well they worked. All was clear.

BANG BANG!

"What _now_ Dudley!"

"Dinner!" Finding that it was Vernon's voice instead of Dudley, I jumped out of my skin.

"Okay." I came cautiously out of the bathroom and then out of my room. "Where's Mom?"

Vernon arched his eyebrows. "She'll be here in a minute. Go to the dining room and fix your plate."

I just nodded and walked by. Dudley wasn't near by for the moment so Vernon had his strict tone back. I entered the kitchen to see that Dudley had already fixed his plate and was scarfing it down already. I took another deep sigh and began on my plate.

"Where are your glasses?" Dudley had looked up from his plate for long enough to see the frames where now missing.

I shrugged. "I switched to contacts."

My step-brother frowned. "This is new. . ."

"I needed a change." I smiled while placing some mashed potatoes on my plate.

"What do you mean you don't want to eat? You haven't eaten in _days_, Lily!" Vernon's angry shout carried down the hall suddenly. I couldn't hear Mom's reply, but it clearly didn't satisfy Vernon. I turned to see him coming down the hall and into the dining room at a swift pace.

"She's not coming, I take it?" I sighed.

"No," Vernon said flatly and slammed some food onto his plate, nearly shattering it with his strength and making me flinch slightly.

Mom understood me the most out of the rest of my family. She was a woman after all, and had really wanted a girl anyway. Lately, however, she seamed to be going through a depression. After being fired from her job she spent most of the time in her room. I hadn't ever had a job yet, but I don't know if I felt sorry for her in the least. Not to say I wasn't worried, I loved her, but I think this was taking things a bit far. . . I just didn't know how far.

AN: Hi everyone! Sorry if I ever leave the wrong names in. Like I said in the beginning: it wasn't originally a fanfiction, I just changed the names. Sometimes I may miss a name or two, so I'm saying sorry in advance.


	4. New Look

_**Who I Am**_

_**Chapter 4**_

_**New Look **_

Within a fifteen hour period, my look had completely changed. I found a black tee-shirt in the back of my closet and placed a white and black striped collar shirt over it, then some jeans. Again, no glasses. I wasn't going punk or anything; I just needed to ditch the geeky look. Neither one was really me, so maybe both would work. (But once you really think about it, two wrongs don't really make a right. . .) I took a step back from my full-length mirror and smiled. The black shirt was a bit snug, but it helped show off my curves in a way. Very sexy. This was already much better than the white button-down and kakis. . .

_I hope Ron likes this look better. . ._ I sighed deeply at this thought. I clearly wasn't giving up on him very easily, even if he didn't want to be more than a friend to me.

Speaking of which, I took the shirt from yesterday and stuck it in my backpack for in caseRon wanted it back. I then slung it over my shoulder after getting all dressed and such, and then went to beg Vernon for a ride. I grabbed a mug and poured myself a cup of coffee. Vernon was already finishing his cup while he read the newspaper. I leaned casually on the counter next to him, not caring how flirty I looked. I was desperate.

"Hey, Vernon." I smiled.

"Hmm," he grunted and didn't even look up from his paper.

"Think you can give me a ride today?"

My step-dad looked up (finally) and his face fell. His eyes swept over my body quickly. I could tell what Vernon was thinking: "This is. . . New." Something suddenly showed up in his eye that I hadn't seen before. But before I could identify it, the look was gone. "Okay, Harry. Just don't be late. I leave in ten minutes." He turned back to the paper and took another sip of coffee.

"Thanks Vernon." I smiled and grabbed a piece of bacon from the plate next to him.

"Welcome Harry." There was a short silence, then: "You look good, by the way."

I nodded with a smile. He'd never really complemented me before. . . "Thank you, Vernon."

"I don't mean that in any sexual way or anything . . . You just--"

"I get you." I nodded again and took another sip of the hot, black liquid. "Change can be for the better, eh?"

He nodded back. "Yeah, the glasses didn't really suit you. Shows off your green eyes better. . ."

I raised my eyebrows. Now it sounded sexual. Vernon caught himself and looked back down at the paper. Soon, however, his strict manner was restored. "Get to the car. I'll see you in a minute."

"Yeah."

"Hey, Harry!"

I turned and saw Ron coming down the hall. I waved back as if nothing had ever happened the night before. When he caught up, he was smiling.

"I didn't think that was you at first. You look good, man."

I smiled back. "Thanks."

"You took my advice on the glasses, huh?"

"Yeah, these contacts were a bitch to get in though. Especially when you have a step-brother banging on your door the whole time." We both laughed at this.

He was looking past me, avoiding my eye contact. Ron must have seen something because his demeanor changed suddenly and he put his head down slightly, scratching his neck. "Don't look now, but Draco's looking at you."

"Really?" I glanced to my side opposite of Ron to see Draco, leaning against his locker with an odd look on his tanned face. I laughed slightly. "Be damned!"

Ron kept his head down, hand rubbing against the soft white skin of his neck. "I just wanted to say. . ."

"Hm?"

"Well, I'm sorry. . . About last night."

I laughed and shook my head. "It's all fine, Ron. I don't mind, really."

"I don't believe you."

My head snapped back around to him.

"I shouldn't have done that to you. I shouldn't have . . . you know . . . unless I was really interested in you. I shouldn't have lead you on or. . ."

"It's _fine_, Ron." I laughed again and pushed his shoulder slightly. He continued to scratch at his neck. I realized how his head was turned; his blue eyes were looking at me up and down. The scratching was just a cover up for what he was really doing: checking me out. It was as if he had never seen me before.

"I'd also appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone."

"Got yah." I said. To be truthful: I was expecting that. "Are you looking at my ass?"

Ron's face reddened immediately. I laughed. "You look good in red. Matches your hair."

"Suddenly, _you're_ the comedian in this relationship?"

"I've just. . . Come out."

"In one night?"

I just shrugged. "It had to happen _sometime_. What? You want me to be a recluse for the rest of forever?"

Ron didn't answer for a moment. He had stopped scratching (most likely because I knew what it was all about now) and was looking straight ahead. "I'll see you at lunch." And that was the end of that conversation.

Ron was definitely looking at me differently since last night. I didn't blame him. But, it was almost as if that kiss made us switch bodies, like our souls had made an exchange through the soft skin of our lips. I was the quiet one who didn't want to be noticed, he was the comedian who always knew what to say. That had all changed after one little kiss. He didn't know how to look at me or talk to me. I knew exactly what I wanted now: him. I didn't care how I showed it anymore. I didn't care who knew it. I wanted to be with Ron. . . .

But what did he want? Did he want me too? I wasn't sure anymore. I thought I did, but clearly, that wasn't it at all. But maybe it was and he wasn't sure what he wanted anymore? Maybe it scared him last night? It had gone differently for the both of us it seamed. I had awoken to new feelings, so had he, but we both reacted conflictingly. I was ready and willing for more, he was terrified.

I pulled at my collar. It was a bit tight, much like the rest of the shirt. It was about noon and I was waiting outside at the picnic tables, looking up at the sky and realizing how well they matched Ron's eyes. . . No one really sat with me. Ron had a couple of times when he had no one else to sit with. Draco was inside of the cafeteria with all of his jock buddies, as usual. This supposition was soon contradicted, however.

BAM! My head was suddenly smacked from behind with a text book. "Harry!"

"What?" I sighed and turned to face right into Draco Malfoy's tanned face. "Um . . . Hey?" I said timidly.

"Hey." He swung over the bench and sat beside me. "Listen, before they start to miss me, I was wondering if you wanted to come over and see me tonight."

I pulled one of those faces that looked like I'd just swallowed a lemon, rind and all. "Are you asking me out?"

"No! No _no_." He said this a bit too defiantly if you ask me. "I just. . . Well, we haven't had much time to get to know each other and all so. . ."

"You never gave me a chance to get to know you."

"Well, I'm giving you a chance now."

I frowned. So. . . Ron had been right. Draco _was_ interested in me. Should I give him a chance, after all he had put me through? "You mean, after four years of abuse, you expect me to welcome you with open arms?"

He just watched me for a moment (trying to come up with one of his smooth come backs, no doubt). I gave him a half sneer (trying not to look too cocky about my achievement) and turned back to looking at the sky.

"Oh, c'mon. Don't be this way." I felt Draco's hand touch my shoulder and I shrugged it off.

"I've heard that line before. Only it was. . . Lavender Brown, right? Caught you making out with Parvati Patil, didn't she? I may like guys, but I'm not exactly a girl, all right? I'm harder to sweet-talk and I'm not easy." I said this without looking at him. Instead, I concentrated on the blue sky above, dotted with white clouds and seagulls.

"It's a good thing I don't give up easily then."

I pretended not to hear that last comment. "I should have known. . ." I thought out loud.

"Should have known what?"

"That you were gay. My gaydar needs some polishing."

"Gay? Me? Where—?"

"You just totally outted yourself. 'Good thing I don't give up easily then?' Seams you jocks really _are_ a bunch of muscles with no brains. . ."

Draco took me by the front of the shirt and held me up to his height. I looked straight into his grey eyes.

"Go ahead, hit me. See if I care." This boldness was uncalled for. I was asking to be mutilated?

"I'm not going to hit you," Draco leaned forward. Just before our lips could make contact, I turned. My eyes searched the grounds for someone, hoping no one saw. . . Or was I hoping they _did_ see? That they would come and help?

"Look, I'm not interested, Draco. Just go back to your friends. I don't want someone who's been threatening me since we met."


	5. Second

_**Who I Am**_

_**Chapter 5**_

_**Second**_

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back toward the sun, feeling its warmth behind my lids. It was a surprisingly warm day for February. . . Valentine's Day was coming up soon for that matter.

I had never really gotten anything for Valentine's. That is, after leaving elementary school for junior high. In elementary school, everyone gave everyone something. We always made these mailboxes out of shoeboxes and then went out and bought a box of cards with our favorite cartoon characters. Sometimes, if we felt ambitious, we taped a peace of chocolate on the envelope. Now, Valentine's was a whole different story. It's the only holiday that really changes with a person's age. We always wear green on St. Patrick's Day, give presents to loved ones on Christmas, and hunt eggs on Easter. But with Valentine's Day the list tends to get smaller of people who get presents, and they aren't quite as simple as they used to be. Peaces of paper with taped on candy were replaced by roses and boxes of chocolates as years past. . . And instead of the whole class receiving these gifts, only your boyfriend/girlfriend got the privilege.

My thoughts were soon interrupted when a hand touched my shoulder. My eyes popped open and I turned to see the source of the unwanted interference. Two grey eyes stared right into mine.

"Draco? What--?" I looked around to see if anyone was around. His usual friends were on the other side of the fence, at the parking lot. They were watching with disfavor in their eyes. For once, those glares weren't just meant for me. "What about them?" I nodded toward the men in their lettermen's jackets.

Dracogave a shrug. "One must make sacrifices to get what they want."

"Meaning. . . ?"

"I came out of the closet and now they hate me for it."

My mouth fell open wide enough that his Mercedes could go through. "You're kidding me, right?" Draco shook his head as an answer. "Holy shit! When did this happen?"

He looked at his watch. "About five minuets ago."

"It'll be all over the place before tomorrow, you realize that?" I queried.

"You wanted someone who's comfortable with their sexuality, right? I'm just taking the first steps."

I stared at him a moment still abashed by the whole situation. Was he really this into me that he would risk his reputation just to be with me? . . . Or did he just want something in return?

"Will you reconsider now on coming to see me?"

I looked down a little. "I don't. . ."

Draco chuckled slightly at my indecisiveness. "I get it. But, do you need a ride?"

My head picked up at the question. "No. . . In case you never noticed: I've _never_ had a ride." I quipped.

He nodded. "I've noticed. But would you _like_ one?"

"Yes." I sighed softly. "I suppose."

"Would you consider coming to my house then?" His hand reached out and took mine. That hand was rough and callous from football and God-knows-what. The moment it touched my skin my head seamed to cloud up. I wanted to say yes.

I turned and looked back at Draco's football buddies. They were pointing and grinning at the two of us now. They clearly didn't get the chance to see a sight like this often.

"It depends. . ." I said softly. "How much did you bet those guys over there that you could bed me?" I pointed again at the cluster of muscle-heads.

The jock looked absolutely abashed at such a statement. "What makes you think—?"

"What makes _you_ think you could take advantage of me just like that? All of a sudden you decide to be friends? You come out of the closet just for me? I doubt you did that at all, really. You just bet you could bed the lonely faggot for what? Fifty bucks? No . . . Two hundred? Just want to see how good you _really_ are, right?"

"It's not like that, Harry—"

"I'm _so_ sure." I turned away and began to look for Ron, see if he was still here, but a hand took my waist before I could get too far. Draco swung me around skillfully and took my head with his free hand. Before I could shout at him to let me go, he kissed me full on the mouth. I knew automatically why all these girls had fallen for him. Draco Malfoy was one hell of a kisser. I fell back, breathless.

However good this man was, though, I didn't feel any chemistry. That was what I had with Ron that other night. That tingle in my lips that spread and covered every cell in my body that night wasn't there this time. Instead, a cloud seamed to separate me from what I really was. I didn't feel like myself anymore. The kiss Ron had given me had made me a better person, this kiss was fighting that person back into the refuge that had kept him concealed for eighteen years. . . I suddenly didn't care who the person with their lips on mine was, I wanted him. This was my lust speaking. It was love that came when I was with Ron.

I looked down and shook my head. "You can give me a ride. I don't really. . ."

A smile broke across his face. He put an arm around my waist and steered me in the direction of his black Mercedes Bens.

"You _really_ came out to your friends?"

Draco nodded.

"And you want to be with me. . . Or do you just want me?" I arched an eyebrow at him and leaned over the armrest.

He looked back at me with a slight sneer. "Both, I guess."

This brought a short silence.

"I heard you and Ron Weasley may be an item—"

"I wish."

Another silence. . .

"No one's at my house, have I mentioned that?"

Apprehensiveness crept in at that comment. "No. . . I don't think you have."

"Do you want to go there now?"

I looked out the window, not answering. I just didn't know. . .

"What if I took you anyway?"

I opened my mouth at this but was unable to get words to come out. I was so unsure of what I wanted now. . . I had felt nothing when he kissed me, but somehow it wasn't enough. Maybe it was just this new feeling of pure lust. Maybe it was the fact that the one person who I had such chemistry with didn't want me back. Maybe I needed a release. . .

A callous hand touched my face, breaking me again from my musings. I had been so lost in thought I hadn't even realized we had stopped. Draco turned me by the jaw and kissed me again, only softer this time. The cloud crept in once again. . .

I wore nothing lying on Draco's sheets as he held me down, kissing me ravenously. He was only half dressed but still had on more than me. The heat coming off of our bodies was so thick even the dresser mirror was fogged at five feet away. Draco kissed my neck and chest as he straddled me as his hands wandered over my person.

We hadn't even had intercourse yet and I already felt I couldn't take much more. He ran his hand down between my legs and I gasped. The cloud suddenly lifted away. I knew what I wanted again. This was too much. I didn't want this. I began to push the man away and sit up. Draco wouldn't let go. He held firmly to my shoulders and waist.

"No. . . Draco. . . Stop," was all I could get out before he took my mouth again.

"Stop?" he whispered. "Why? This feels so good, Harry. I've got to have you—all of you—"

I placed one hand on his chest and pushed him as far away as I could. "It's too much too fast, Draco. I still don't know why. . . If this is all some scheme or if you really want to be with me. I can't risk having my heart broken again so fast."

"Broken again?" he pulled back now and looked at me a bit quizzically. "Is this about Weasley? Did you _sleep with_ him?"

"No. . . We just. . . Kissed." I held up a finger. "Once. He didn't really feel the same way I did about it." I turned away.

"But you love him anyway, don't you Harry?" He leaned back over me and brushed some stray hair from my eyes.

I looked up at him and nodded slowly. "I didn't mean for it to go this far, Draco. I don't feel anything between us and I can't sleep with someone I don't really love. I'm sorry."

AN: Smutty smut. Don't you just love it? Next chap will be up shortly! Oh, and it has been brought to my attention that I accidently left some names wrong in the story. . . The characters were really different from these characters in the begining and had completely different names and sometimes hair-colors. I try to switch them all before I upload the chapter. Sorry about that. REVIEW! I comandeth thee!


	6. Dean

_**Who I Am**_

_**Chapter 6**_

_**Dean**_

Ron wouldn't speak to me the next day. I knew why: he had seen me kissing Draco. Either that or he had heard about it from an eyewitness. But I was sure this was the problem. No doubt about it. Half the school knew now, and the number was growing. I was getting the evil eye even more than ever now (especially by women).

Finally, after much consideration, I stood by his locker and waited to confront him. I leaned against the cold metal of the locker, the lock jabbing me in the shoulder. I saw him coming up the hall. My heart began to hurt the moment I laid eyes on him. Ron stopped in front of me.

"Please move."

I looked up at him with big eyes. He was taller than me by a few inches, much like most other boys my age. The usually friendly smile was replaced with a frown now, a real rarity.

"No. I want to talk, Ron."

"_Move_," he said, with more force this time.

"Like hell I will." I frowned back. "I know you're angry—"

"Angry? At _you_? What gave you that idea!" he shouted, voice dripping sarcasm.

I leaned forward and said softly, "It's about Draco, isn't it, Ron? You saw us, right?"

His eyes narrowed. "Damn straight I saw you. Half the school saw!" We fell silent here. I didn't know what to say now. What could possibly make this better for him? How would I make him understand? "You kissed him and walked to his car with a glazed look in the eye. I don't know (or even _want_ to know) where you went after that or what you did."

I looked away. I heard Ron bang his head against a locker.

"Did you sleep with him, Harry?"

"You just contradicted yourself," I pointed out. "And, no, I didn't. But . . . almost."

"How's that?" Interest now showed in his bright eyes.

I took a deep breath and backed away from his locker. "Put your books up. I'll tell you about it in the car. That is, if you'll give me a ride?"

Ron nodded. "Of course."

After school, I stood beside the red Jeep and looked for Ron. I looked down at myself at the thought of that look on his face this morning. My heart had never hurt so much in my life. . .

I scolded myself at that lie. My heart had been hurt before and almost as bad as it hurt now. The pain wasn't the person's fault, either. It was all mine. I was the source of my own suffering.

I had been in love before Ron. I had fallen even more quickly, too. It was 9th grade, the year I came out (or was _found out_ is more like it) that I met Dean. His skin was dark ebony as were his eyes. The color of his skin contrasted with the color of his teeth, which were so white they had to be veneers. He smiled often, no matter what the circumstances. I finally figured it was to show off his beautiful teeth. Even though Dean was African American he rarely used slang or wore overly large jeans. Even his voice. . . I had a feeling that if you closed your eyes and listened to him talk you would swear he was Caucasian. Not only was he a black boy who acted white, he was also gay. I could tell the moment I set eyes on him. It was odd because he wasn't doing anything to draw attention to himself. Dean was just leaning on the brick wall of the school, eyes glazed, and a smooth smile gracing his lips. . . I never saw anyone look so comfortable in their own skin. . . Except maybe Ron.

It makes me smile just to think of Dean. But then. . . It also pains me.

"Harry?"

I snapped back to see Draco standing over me. A blush crept up on me and I looked away. "What?" I tried to sound as menacing as possible to cover up for the redness.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to give it another go."

"No, Draco. I told you already, I don't want to be with you."

He came around to face me. "How can you honestly say you don't want me?"

"Get away from me." I turned to the other side, trying my best to look over him.

"Playing hard-to-get, I assume?" Draco came around to my other side.

"Like hell." I looked back the other way. "You wish. You've practically ruined my chances of being with Ron—"

"Sorry to break it to you Harry, but you had no chance to begin with."

I pretended not to hear that last comment. "I have a ride with him today; I don't want you screwing me up again."

"I didn't get a chance to screw you, how can I do it again?" He came around to disrupt my vision once again. What was this? Some screwed up version of ring-around-the-rosy?

"Get out of my face!"

"Done and doner." A fist came out of nowhere and punched Draco hard in the cheek, throwing him against the glossy red paint of Ron's Jeep. I watched as Draco fell to the concrete, cursing wildly. Then I turned to see my savior.

Ron smiled down at me. "Get in before he comes completely to." I jumped in quickly.

"What did you mean by _almost_?"

I knew he'd want to know. Shame on me for saying anything.

I took in a deep breath. "He just took me to his house, we made out for a while and then he. . . Took off my clothes. . . He touched me. . . But I wouldn't let him go any further, I swear."

"I believe you." Ron looked over at me with a reassuring smile. I smiled back. "But why?"

"Why what?"

"Why wouldn't you let him go any further?"

"I don't love him, Ron. The guy's a real bastard in case you haven't noticed. Man's gotta have his standards. Yes, even the gay ones have them." I smiled a little more broadly.

Ron laughed. I loved seeing him laugh again. He had seamed a little troubled lately and hardly wanted to smile. . . I hated it when a person lost their smile. Like Dean lost his. . . I didn't want that to happen to Ron on a count of me. I had to back off. But, at the same time, I couldn't.

"Look Harry. . ."

"Hmm?" I noticed his smile had faded already. Damn.

"I also wanted to talk about. . . That kiss. . ."

"So did I." I admitted.

He parked at the nearest parking lot, which just so happened to be a Winn-Dixie shopping center, then turned to me.

I launched into confessions as fast as he put it in park. "It may have been just a kiss to you, but to me it was a lot more. You really mean a lot to me, Ron. I want to be with you. . ." I placed a hand on his for emphasis.

Much to my surprise, he turned his hand over and laced our fingers together. "Of course it was special, it was your first. It was mine too."

I looked up from our hands and looked into his eyes. Was he saying he felt the same for me? I couldn't breathe. . .

"But, I don't like guys. I don't like you that way, Harry."

My face fell. The anger flooded my veins as they had the other night. "Then why did you kiss me? Why are you holding my hand like this? I don't believe you're telling me the whole truth, Ron. You always seamed like the type who wouldn't care what other's think, why do you care now? You seamed alright with me being gay, now you can't even look at me properly." I picked up his face with one hand and turned him to look into my eyes. "You felt something. Why else would you be so nervous?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." He hit me away and began to move farther to his door.

My heart was hurting. I was getting payback for Dean, I could feel it. Dean had loved me, I loved him back, but I wouldn't admit it. I couldn't admit it. . . But I finally did come to terms with who I was. . . After Dean left and went to another school.

"You always said you were good at reading faces. What is mine saying to you now?"

He looked back at me and I took his hands again, placing them on either side of my face. Ron studied me for a moment and began running his thumb against my cheek. His eyes were misting over and trying to keep from going red, much like mine.

"It's saying I couldn't hurt you anymore if I ran you over with my Jeep and backed up. . ."

"Don't joke about this." I whispered, trying not to let him hear my voice break. I didn't want him to go out with me because he felt sorry; I wanted him to go out with me because he loved me.

"I wasn't joking, but I'm sorry it came across that way." He pulled me closer by the jaw and bent down, kissing my left eyebrow.

"And don't kiss me if you don't mean it." I added, pulling away and trading Ron's warm body for the cold glass window of the car. A stray tear escaped my eye at that moment. . .

_Dean was leaning against the door of my room, his forehead against the wood. I felt awkward. What was I supposed to do? A gay man had just declared his love for me and all I could say was: "I don't like you that way, Dean."_

_"Are you sure, Harry?" he whispered against the cold door._

_My body ached to go over and put both arms around him, to tell him I loved him more than he could ever be loved. . . It wasn't just my body that ached, my heart hurt too._

_His hand touched the knob and I heard him give a shaky sigh. I came so close to going over and putting my hand on his, whispering gently in his ear. . ._

"What did you feel?" I whispered, spinning back to Ron. I didn't care at that moment if he saw my tears or not.

He was silent in his seat, wrists resting on the wheel. It seamed a lifetime before he answered me. "Nothing, Harry. I felt absolutely nothing."

It was a lie. I could feel it. It was a lie. I knew it. It was a lie. He couldn't look at me while saying it. It was a lie. . .

"Just take me home, Ron." I couldn't even look at him while saying this. "Just. . ."

I didn't need to repeat myself.

AN: This chapter is so sad! Sorry, but it isn't the last sad chappy either. The next is absolutely gut-wrenching to be honest. . . NEwayz, I hope you are all enjoying this story! See you next chappy!


	7. Fly Away From Here

_**Who I Am**_

_**Chapter 7**_

_**Fly Away From Here**_

"Where's Mom?" I asked, looking around the living room as I stepped in the door.

"Bedroom." Vernon pointed over his shoulder.

I looked around to see we were the only ones in the room now. "Dudley finally leave again?"

"Yes, thank God."

I gave a weak smile at my step-father and began back into the master bedroom. When I reached the white wooden door, I stopped. Something was wrong. I couldn't hear the television going and it was time for Mom's favorite soap opera to start. She never missed it. I leaned against the door, pressing my ear against the cold, lifeless wood.

"Mom?" I asked aloud. No answer. My hand went to the handle and pushed it open. My eyes widened at the sight that befell me.

My mother hung from a noose tied to the ceiling fan.

"VERNON!" I screamed and ran back to the living room.

I rested on a tree near my mother's coffin as it hung over its final resting place. I had left the family line up where people walked by, shaking their hands and saying how much she would be missed. I had never shaken so many strangers' hands in one sitting. I closed my eyes and felt a few more tears fall. I had hardly stopped since seeing her hanging from the noose, eyes set in a wide, sightless daze. . . I knew she was depressed, but I never thought. . .

"Harry?"

I turned to the source of the intrusion. My mouth fell. Dean stood there in a suit and tie, a slight smile on his face as was his character to do.

"Dean. . ." I walked forward and, before I could stop myself, put my arms around him. I held him tight in my arms as if he was the only thing holding me to this earth. If I let go I would surely float up into the clouds with my mother. "Oh, Dean. . . You are a sight for sore eyes."

He pushed me back a little but continued to hold my shoulders as I held his elbows. "You've grown even more beautiful than I remember." He touched my face gently. "Of course, with my luck, still straight?" Jon gave a smile and leaned forward a bit with a slight twinkle in his eyes.

I laughed a little. "Really . . . no." I shrugged and smiled back at him. "Not a day goes by that I don't think of you. You see I—"

He kissed me softly on the lips, stopping my confessions dead in their tracks. I smiled at him as he let go. It was the sweetest kiss I'd ever had the pleasure of receiving. Draco was rather fierce and Dean was just sweet. . . Ron was dead center of both. Loving but lustful.

"Be damned! And at your own mother's funeral, too. Do you gay guys have _any_ control?"

"Leave us, Dudley." I said, not taking my eyes off of Dean.

"Oh, c'mon, Harry!" he walked around and put an arm around Dean's shoulders. "You're the guy that turned my step-brother, right? Congratulations!" Dudley slapped him on the back with a grin.

"Leave him alone." I reached over and smacked him away. "I haven't seen him in nearly three years and I'm—"

"—trying to get laid in peace, hm? Okay, I'll go."

"DUDLEY!"

Vernon found this a good spot to intervene. "Don't yell in a graveyard, Harry!"

"Sorry, Vernon!" I looked back at Dean.

"Let's walk a little, what say you?" (Yes, he talks like this regularly just so he can make people laugh.)

I nodded my agreement with a smile. We turned to begin our walk through the graves, pinkies entwined. We hadn't ever been very affectionate. Except, maybe the night of the spring dance, a few days before he moved and I came out of the closet. . .

"And you're not at the dance because . . . ?"

I looked up at Dean. "Because I can't dance."

"Can't dance?" He acted as if he'd never heard such a preposterous statement. As if, to him, it was a sin to not know how to dance. Like not knowing how to pray. . . "I hate to sound clichéd but: everyone can dance! Have you ever tried?"

I folded my arms. "No. I never found a reason to." I looked away, hiding my eyes under my bangs as best I could. They were so short it was nearly impossible.

Dean put his hand under my chin to pull me up. "Come here." He pulled me up into his arms, holding me in position with one hand on my shoulder and the other holding my hand.

I blushed slightly. What from, I can't say. "There's no music." I pointed out blankly.

Dean danced us over to his CD player and turned on some soft-rock music.

"_Gotta find a way_

_Yeah, I can't wait another day._

_Ain't nothing gonna change_

_If we stay 'round here. _

_Gotta do what it takes_

_Cause in all our hands_

_We all make mistakes. . ." _

"Better?"

"I guess. . ."

Dean walked me through the steps and then left it up to me. I watched his eyes as we danced around the room.

"_Fly away from here_

_Anywhere, yeah I don't care_

_We'll fly away from here_

_Our hopes and dreams are out there somewhere. . ." _

"I like Aerosmith." I commented softly.

"Me too." His voice was barely above a whisper. . .

"I feel really gay right now. . ."

"Could it have anything to do with being in a gay man's arms?"

"_You_? Gay?" I laughed.

"The sarcasm was hardly needed, Harry."

"Sorry." I said, still laughing. He was laughing too, so I could tell he wasn't too serious about it. Dean was never very serious about anything, even his sexuality.

"_We'll just fly away from here. . ." _

Then, I felt his hand run from my shoulder to the back of my neck. My heart began to quicken its pace as I felt his soft caress on the back of my spine. I closed my eyes now as I felt him move closer to me, our chests barely touching beneath our cotton shirts. But, all the same, I swear I could feel his heart quickening with mine. I stopped moving as he rested his head on my shoulder and let go of my hand to rest it on my other shoulder. The other hand, where his head now sat, had found its way up the back of my shirt. The soft flesh of his lips connected to that of my neck. With that my throat closed up as if his mouth was squeezing the life out of me.

At the same time, a shock went through me at the contact as if his lips also gave off an electric charge. It was like touching a fallen power line: I wanted to get away, but couldn't. I was locked there in his arms.

"_Do you see a bluer sky now?_

_You can have a better life now_

_Open your eyes _

_Because no one here can ever stop us_

_They can try but we won't let them. . ." _

With the same tenderness, I put my arms around him as if in surrender to his touch. I took his free hand and kissed his palm. I confessed in my mind that I truly wanted him. . . I wanted Dean more than anything at that moment. . .

His lips found their way up my neck and gave a soft nibble at my ear. "I love you."

"Do you still love me, Dean?" I looked off at a marble grave shaded by mounds of fresh flowers. Someone else had died recently along with my mother. She wouldn't be alone. . .

The black boy leaned over my shoulder and whispered in my ear, "Yes. I could never stop." His arms slipped around me, gathering my body against his. "I'll always love you. Always want you in my arms; always give you what you need or want. . . Just . . ."

"Just what, Dean?"

"Just tell me that you finally feel the same, Harry."

AN: I am so mean. . . So, should Harry give up on Ron and be with Dean? Will he reject him once again? I AINT TELLIN! You have to read and find out!


	8. Drunken Nights

_**Who I Am**_

**WARNING: This chapter involves rape and child molestation. Really, it took a lot of guts for me to even put it up. . . Proceed at your own risk! Thank you!**

**--Zadia Grey**

_**Chapter 8**_

_**Drunken Nights**_

I had had the perfect time to finally be in a real relationship, with a guy I couldn't stop thinking of, and I blew it. Damn it Ron. . . He was on my mind just as much as Dean had been. I loved them both. . . But which was stronger? I wasn't sure as of the moment. That's why I said what I did.

". . . I can't, Dean."

His smile faded again. Dean didn't cry, his voice didn't break, but he was hurt again. I was hurting him again. Damn me.

"I met someone, but. . . I don't know how they feel. I love you, but I need to see what he thinks. I'm not going to lead you on. I also love someone else. . ."

"Why don't you go with someone you know loves you, instead of chasing someone you don't know about?" he frowned.

"I don't know. . ."

Dean let go of me.

I slammed my head down on my desk a few times, repeating the same words over and over as my head cracked on the hard wood: "Damn it damn it damn it. . ."

Vernon was gone as was Dudley. I was by myself for the time being and I was taking this time to jostle some sense back into my head. Somehow I had lost all perception and was now cracking my head open to see if it would maybe find its way back and crawl in through the splits in my skull. Yeah, like that would happen. Whatever was lost wasn't going to come back. Like Dean . . .

Somewhere between slams, I heard a door open. I sat all the way up this time and stopped my self-discipline to listen. The door slammed behind the person. From the sound of his footsteps alone, I could tell it was Vernon, and he was drunk. To make this worse, the steps were coming toward me. The steps were rushed, but there was a lot of staggering and loud sniggering involved. My door soon opened to reveal my step-father, in all his drunkenness. His suit was still on (though a bit rumpled). His eyes were bloodshot and wide, almost as wide as the grin that graced his slightly wrinkled face. Vernon was trying to look suave against the wooden doorframe.

"Harry! Just the boy I wanted to see." He said this as if this was the last place he would have looked: inside my own room. . . All the same, Vernon gave a laugh and ran his fingers over his mop of brown hair. "Mmm. . . Harry, I have a few confessions to make to you."

"Oh, yeah?" I turned in my seat to face the man properly.

There was an odd look in Vernon's eyes as he watched me. I had a feeling it was only the alcohol causing it, but something was telling me other wise. He took a few steps forward and collapsed almost comically to the floor. I jumped up to help him, but Vernon put his hand out to stop me there.

"Fine! Meant for that to happen. I like the floor. Nice and carpeted down here." He patted the white carpeting, all the while keeping that cheesy, drunken grin on his face.

I hadn't seen him drink all that often. Usually he came home really horny when this happened though. This was really bad for Mom. Now, Mom wasn't here. . .

"You see son. . . Where to begin? Oh yeah! Your mother. Sweet lady, wasn't she? Too bad I wasn't really in love with her these past few years."

These words hit me like a mallet. What was bad about this was that my head was already in enough pain.

"You didn't love her? Then why--?"

"I wanted someone else." Vernon waved it off as if it was nothing. "Now, this child was too young for me. All I could do was wait until he grew up a bit. But what if I lost track of him? I couldn't do that, Harry. I wanted him so badly it hurt--"

"_Him_? Vernon, you're _gay_?" My gaydar really _did_ need polishing. . .

"Bi! Men _and_ women make me hard. But this boy . . . I really wanted him. He was special. He just. . . Mmm!"Vernon took this moment to stretch his arms over his head. I took the moment to wonder why he was telling me all this in the first place. I don't know if it's love or lust, but I wanted him. I still want him." He got to his a moment to crawl forward and use my knees as armrests. "Have I mentioned how good you look tonight?"

These words hit me even harder. I was speechless. "Me?" I managed to choke out feebly.

"Do you see anyone else here?"

"No, I mean. . . It's me isn't it? The boy you wanted all these years? You married my mother to get to me when I was old enough, didn't you!" Anger and fear rose in me. Anger for all the obvious, fear because I knew he was drunk and in need of sex. Sex from his gay step-son to be more specific. Sex from _me_.

"Damn straight!" Vernon laughed at his own joke.

"You were leading her on for _three years_ just so you could get _me_ in bed? I was fifteen when we met!"

"That you were. . ."

This couldn't be _Vernon_, the man my mother married. This was an old pervert. A user. A homo. . . He must have been a damn good actor to have fooled us all these years. His goal was always to put me down. . . Now it was _literal_. He wanted to _lay _me. My own step-father. . . It seamed all the men who ever really bullied me over my sexuality were really lusting after me. (All but Brandon maybe, but the way things were going. . . Like father like son, right?)

As my brain raced to process all this new information, Vernon took the opportunity to take action on his intentions. His hand slipped under my shirt, pushing it up with his thumb as all the other digits touched my bare skin. A breath caught in my throat from pure fear. All the anger and pity I had felt just a few minutes ago had fallen in mercy of this pure, raw fear. What he had done to Mom when drunk, what he had kept bottled up all these years. . . I put two and two together really fast. I wasn't living through this night with my virginity fully in tact. There was no way this would be another "almost" like that day with Draco.

Vernon's lips began to caress the freshly exposed skin, kissing my abs in a somewhat rough manner. The hand inched up to my chest and the rough digits rubbed at my nipple. The lips soon abandoned my abs to kiss my chest. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back. This really didn't feel so bad. . . Maybe I could do this. . . But, I don't love him. He was my step-father for the past three years, not a person I would even _consider_ being with. How could I let this man have his way with me if I felt nothing for him?

It was the sound of my zipper coming undone that broke me from my trance-like state. I stood suddenly. "No, I can't--"

"Of course you can!" Vernon pushed me back down and straddled my hips, taking off my shirt. He began ripping off his own shirt as he sat on my lap. His breath smelt of beer. . . Was this really how I was going to loose my virginity? To a man who was drunk shitless? Not Ron? Not even Dean? It wasn't supposed to be this way. I knew it.

"Get off me!" I pushed him back, but he didn't fall. Vernon held his ground.

"We can do this the hard way if you prefer."

_Oh God, no . . . _He was talking rape now.

He leaned forward and began sucking at my bare neck. "I suggest you don't fight. It will save you a lot of pain."

Pain. What was more painful: giving yourself to someone you don't love or loving someone who doesn't love you back?

I reached up and took his bare shoulders and pulled him into me a bit closer.

"That's right. . ." he whispered against my neck.

Then, however, I pushed him back as hard at possible. This time he was caught by surprise and had no choice but to fall to the floor. Vernon was up and had me by the waist before I could reach the door. I fell hard on my face. Every fiber of my being was hurting already from that fall alone. What kind of shape would I be in after the night ended? I pulled my head up to see a red spot on the carpet where my face had been. My nose was bleeding. Vernon turned me over and held my arms into the carpet.

"You want it rough, eh? Fine by me!"

He took me and pulled me up by the arms already clenched in his fists. I was thrown on the covers of my bed. Vernon wasted no time in pinning me down on the mattress. I could feel every spring press on my back under the larger man's weight. I held his shoulders, trying to keep his lips off of my own. He took my wrists again and pushed them to the sides of my head. I turned at the last moment so his lips collided with my cheek.

"Oh, c'mon Harry. You have no idea what years of sexual frustration can do to a man."

"Frankly, I don't give a damn." I seriously didn't mean for that to sound like _Gone with the Wind_. Really.

"Heh heh. Cute, Harry." Vernon leaned over again, but instead of going for my mouth, went to my ear. His sour breath tickled my skin. "You know that pocket knife I have on me at all times?"

"Yes."

"You don't want me to use it, do you?"

I hesitated. "No."

"Then I suggest you let me have my way and don't make any trouble about it, you hear me, _son_?"

Damn him to hell. How dare this intoxicated bastard call me his son? My father would never hurt me like he had. Would never try to have sexual intercourse with me, or hit me, or call me a fag when he himself was also one. Traitor to his own race, this one. . .

I woke up near morning sore as hell. The pain from my belly button down to my knees was excruciating. The sheets were soaked, my clothes were blanketing the floor, my ass was killing me. . . Speaking of which, I raised the sheets up between two fingers to survey the damage. Bruises and hickys _everywhere_. Damn it. I whispered a string of curses and recovered myself. It wasn't supposed to be this way, damn it!

Exhaustion took over again and I fell into a hard sleep. . .


	9. Lost Innocense

_**Who I Am**_

**Okay, this chapter is better than the last. I would have left the last one out if it didn't throw the whole plot out of whack! Oh well. . . Enjoy!**

_**Chapter 9**_

_**Lost Innocence**_

I woke up to the feeling of a hand caressing my hair. I opened my eyes to see Vernon sitting at the edge of the bed, running his fingers through my hair. His eyes were a bit glazed, but he wore his suit just the same. Same old Vernon: he was going to work, hangover or none. (Like he took my virginity, my consent or none.)

"I'm going to let you stay home today. I'm sure you're tired from your first time."

I nodded. It was good to know he could be nice every once in a while. Vernon kissed my temple, gave me another pat on the head, and left me.

I spent most of the day in bed, wallowing in self-pitty. I had never felt to helpless in all my life. I was weak. . . nothing. . . This was all my fault. I deserved what had happened to me. I was a nobody trying to act like a somebody. My newfound confidence from Ron's kiss wasn't real. I was still the geek in glasses who got pounded by jocks on a daily bases. Nothing more. . .

Another realization had struck me also. I was never going to have what I wanted. I would never have Ron no matter how good I looked in a tight shirt and contacts.

Maybe this was the real reason Mom killed herself: she realized the man she loved didn't love her back. She had been married to him for nearly five years and he never had real feelings for her. Somehow she was able to figure out his real motivation. . . I felt her pain now more than ever.

The next day I got up and went to school for the hell of it. I pulled on a white collared shirt, some jeans, and even took out my contacts to replace them with my old glasses.

I stood at my locker, taking out some books for my next class when Ron finally confronted me.

"What happened, Harry?"

"What do you mean?" I replied stiffly.

"You went back to before. . . Your clothes and glasses they. . ."

"Nothing happened." I slammed the locker and began to my math class.

"You liar. Tell me!"

I shook my head and quickened my strides.

"You still hate me, don't you?"

"Please. I could never hate you."

"Then what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing that concerns you. I don't see why you care anyway."

"Why shouldn't I care?"

"You don't want me or love me." I moved walking to a quick jog.

"That doesn't mean I don't _care_ about you!"

"That doesn't matter now! You can't help me anyway. . . Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm late for class." I took off at a sprint now, leaving Ron in my wake. I didn't want his pity anymore.

I was outside during lunch, as usual. A hand reached out and took my jaw gently. It was Draco. I almost growled at the sight of him. I was _so_ not in the mood.

"Am I still getting the cold shoulder from you?"

"I don't care about you anymore. I have more important things on my mind."

"Like what?" Draco scowled at not being more important than anything else. Typical of his character.

I looked away, not quite sure what to say here. There was no way I would tell _him_ the truth.

"I get it. I'm still being shunned. Tell me when you feel like giving me another try." Draco winked and placed a small peck on the cheek. I felt my mouth drop. _Draco_ being _understanding_? Hell just froze over.

Draco left me to think . . . or whatever I had been doing. However, I was soon interrupted again. A shadow fell over me and I turned to see Ron leaning over the table. My frown deepened.

"What?"

"I just want to talk, Harry."

"And I don't. You can leave now."

Ron sighed and sat down next to me, completely ignoring my command. "Ever since we met, you have always been next to me. You are one of the most open people I've met. Sometimes I can't get you to shut up. Why won't you talk to me now?"

I didn't speak. Maybe I could get him to leave me alone the same way I did with Draco.

"Well, if you won't talk now, how about later?"

My mouth staid closed.

"How about tomorrow over dinner?"

My head whipped around to face Ron. "Are you asking me for a date?"

"Not really. I just want to see if I can wheedle it out of you."

A/N: I think that's my shortest chapter. . . Oh well! Please Review!


	10. Importance

_**Who I Am**_

_**Chapter 10**_

_**Importance**_

I told Vernon I was going to be at the mall alone. (What else would I tell him? "I'm going to be eating dinner with the man I _really_ love"? No.) It was partially true: I was going there alone, but I would meet Ron after getting there. It was a fast walk. Closer than the school, at least.

A hand reached out from behind and pulled at my shirt. I turned to see Ron standing there, wearing a red shirt with a dragon wrapped around the bottom and black pants.

"Hey, you look good." Ron smiled.

"Thank you very much." I bowed slightly. (The man _was_ a god, after all.) "So do you."

"Don't lie like that."

I pulled my head up quickly. "I mean it. You're gorgeous. You really are." I smiled up into his face. I couldn't decide what the look on his face meant, I couldn't even tell if it was good or bad, but I stood up straight and kept my smile. "So, what made you decide to go out with me?"

Ron shrugged. "Let's go in. It looks like there's going to be a line if we wait around much longer."

After we sat down at our booth at Ruby Tuesday's, I fell silent again. I really wasn't sure how to do this. . . It wasn't really a date, but I had still never really been out with a potential friend before. I never had a friend to go out with in the first place.

I leaned over my cherry coke and peered at the man before me. He looked so damn good. . . His hair was not gelled; it was falling naturally around his freckled, somewhat pale face.

_I love you. _I thought softly and smiled. I just wished I could say it aloud. . .

"You're really love struck aren't you?"

I snapped back to reality. Ron was watching me with that look on his face again: the one that said he was reading your face without your acquiesce.

I shrugged. "You should know why."

Ron looked down. "How many times do I have to say I'm sorry for that?"

"None really. I don't regret it. The only thing I regret is not mine to regret."

". . . What?"

"The fact that you don't feel the same. That's all." I sighed and looked away.

"All of that doesn't matter now anyway. I want to ask about what has happened to you in the last few days."

"I'd rather not tell you, Ron."

"You're not yourself and I want to know why."

"I was like this when we met. Who's to say this isn't me?"

"That wasn't you. That was never you. The real you. . . Came out later."

I arched an eyebrow. Ron got up and came over to my side of the table so he was next to me.

"The real Harry Potter wasn't afraid to get what he wanted. All he wanted was love and to be loved. He didn't care if he was accepted by people in society. He was the bravest boy I had ever known. . . Far braver than I could ever be," here, he reached over and took my collar. "He wore tight shirts that drove me up the walls."

"_Now_ you're trying to seduce me. After I. . ." I stopped myself. I couldn't let him know about Vernon.

"After you what?" Ron leaned in closer.

I turned away. "You're trying to seduce the answers out of me, huh Daisy Duke?"

Ron gave a wry laugh. "I'm sorry, Harry. I just want to know. . ."

"Well you can't know."

"Why?"

"Because I'm afraid for your life, is that enough for you?" I raised my voice so the people in the next booth over turned their heads.

"Now you _have_ to tell me, Harry."

I rested my face in my hands. If I told him, he would probably feel like he had to do something. Vernon would kill me if he found out someone else knew, or even worse, he could kill Ron. . .

"You know how abusive my step-father is, right?" I needed to get this off my chest. Ron was the only person that could help me now. He helped me come out of my shell, now he could help me get away from Vernon who helped shove me in in the first place.

"You have to wear foundation to keep people from noticing."

"Yes, but. . . Since my mom died. . . He started doing more than just beating me," I looked up into those beautiful blue eyes of his. "He's started raping me, Ron."

The red-head fell silent next to me.

"You understand now, don't you?"

He reached up and took off my glasses. "I understand perfectly."

"You can't say anything, though. He'd kill you and me if he found out. More importantly you."

"Don't say things like that. You are just as valuable as me or anyone else on this earth."

"I'm nobody."

"Don't be stupid, Harry."

Ron began stoking the side of my face with the back of his hand. The feeling was coming back, that nervous, tingling that came the first time he kissed me. Well, the only time he kissed me. Now it was coming simply by feeling his touch on my skin. . .

"How can you be nobody? You're Harry Potter. That sexy, yet somehow innocent, boy that I can't get out of my head no matter how hard I try."

. . . and began running through me veins as he spoke each word. . .

He leaned forward and kissed my cheek. This time, I knew he meant it.


	11. Holding Out for a Hero

_**Who I Am**_

_**Chapter 11**_

_**Holding Out for a Hero**_

BAM. "HARRY!" Vernon's scream echoed through the house. His voice alone was enough to make me quake with fear, he needn't scream.

"Yes sir?" I looked over my shoulder to see him.

"Bedroom!"

I got up and began toward my bedroom as a punishment for who-knows-what.

"No!" I looked back at him. "MY bedroom!"

_Oh hell no. . . _My fear became visible now. I shook my head at him rapidly. "Wh-why?" I choked back a sob.

Vernon grabbed my arms and pushed me into the room, slamming the door behind him. My step-father then pulled me close enough to whisper in my ear: "By _yourself_, huh?"

He _knew_? How could he possibly know?

I pushed away and tried to make a break for it. He grabbed me with one arm and threw me against the foot of the bed. I yelped as he hit me on the head with a statue he had sitting on the vanity. The now broken statue left me dazed enough not to put up a fight anymore.

It became evident to me by the next day that sex was turning into a punishment for me; it wasn't just for Vernon's pleasure anymore. He had picked up on my sobs of anguish each time he did me, he knew I hated it, hated _him_. Now he used it to his advantage.

I turned over so I wasn't facing Vernon and wrapped the blanket around myself. I let the silent tears flow from my face and soak in the sheets around me. I could _feel_ the bruises rising on my pale skin. This wasn't fare. . . _Nothing_ was fare.

- - -

"Harry! What happened to your face?" Ron reached out and touched the bandage on my forehead.

"What do you _think_ happened?" I growled.

"Oh Harry. . . I'm so sorry," he said as he continued to stroke my bandage absent mindedly.

"Have you got a plan yet?"

"Just that you aren't going back to that house again."

"I have to pack, though!"

"I know that," he waved me off. "It will be fine. We'll go when he's not there."

". . . He's not there now," I arched an eyebrow.

"Are you actually suggesting that we skip? _You_?"

"Duh. This is enough of a reason to, isn't it?"

"I know, it's just. . . _You_?"

I laughed. "I can be as much of a rebel as you, Ronald Weasley."

"I have never been more attracted to you."

"HA! You admit it!"

Ron stood and took one of my hands. I nearly froze and began to blush at the touch of his rough hands on mine. Whoa. What was I now, a giddy little schoolgirl? Well. . . That's _almost_ true. Okay, maybe it's completely true, but. . .

"We'll talk more about this at your place, what do you say?"

I beamed. Ron was truly my hero.

- - -

I opened the front door of my house and held it open for Ron. "I just need a few things. It won't take long." I stopped for a moment and smiled. "And I guess this is as good time as any to thank you. You've helped me in more ways than you know."

"Really?" Ron smiled back. "How's—?"

That's when I heard the garage door open and panicked. I looked away from Ron and listened, praying with all my might that it wasn't Vernon.

"Dad?"

I rubbed my temples and sighed. The human migraine had come back. . .

"He's at work! It's _Wednesday_ for Christ sake!" I shouted.

Dudley appeared at my door just as Ron disappeared. "I was just checking. What are you doing here, Fag?"

"Having a tea party." I rolled my eyes and opened another drawer to begin packing.

"Are you going somewhere?"

"No, I'm just giving all my worldly possessions to the needy."

"That's so funny I forgot to laugh."

"Yes, I am leaving and I'm not coming back." The anger was rising again. I was becoming very impatient with the man.

"Dad kicked you out, eh?"

"No, I'm leaving by my own free will."

"It's about time you left. Why you were around this long, I'll never know. . ."

I stopped packing for a moment and chuckled. "You want to know why? I'll _tell_ you why!" I stood up in front of Dudley, looking him in the eyes. "Because I'm so damn good in bed, that's why. Your father thought I was a good lay, so he kept me around." I smiled up at him as his face grew red. "That's right, Dudley. Your father's just like me."

"You liar!" Dudley just watched me, dumbfounded. The look on his face made me laugh out loud.

"Dudley at a loss for words! A Polaroid moment!"

I saw his fist come toward my face and cringed, ready for the blow. However, the blow never landed. I opened my eyes to see that Ron had caught Dudley's fist just before it could collide with my face.

"That your Prince Charming?" asked Dudley.

"Whose business is that?" answered Ron, continuing to glare at my step-brother.

Dudley pulled away from the red-head's grip and began storming out.

"I'm not giving you queers long to get out!" his voice echoed through the house.

"It won't take long!" I shouted back. "I can hardly wait!"

"Neither can I!"

"Who's he?" Ron said in my ear.

"My step-brother, Dudley." I closed the door behind Dudley and went back to packing. "He hates me worse than anyone, and I hate him equally as much." While laying out a shirt and carefully folding it, Ron came up behind me. One hand rested on my shoulder while the other snaked its way around my waist. I closed my eyes and leaned into him. The hand that had been on my shoulder traveled down my arm and took my hand.

"What was it we were talking about before being so rudely interrupted?" asked Ron gently into my ear.

I thought for a moment I may swoon or tremble from the contact. "Well, we . . . were thanking each other. . ."

"Yes! I was beginning to ask how I'd helped you so much."

"Y-you helped me come out and be myself. I-I was n-never able to just be myself. . ." I paused to laugh here. "Listen to me stutter! How embarrassing." I pulled my head back to look up at my best friend. "Well, I didn't have the courage to be myself before I met you. Now I do. Thank you." I hesitantly took his hand. To my surprise, he didn't pull away. "I may not have you physically, like I want, but. . . You still gave me a gift. I don't know how to thank you."

I felt his strong arms tighten. "May I make a suggestion?"

Before he could make that suggestion I heard the backdoor open.

"HARRY!" Vernon's voice roared through the house.

"Oh hell. . ."

"That's Vernon, isn't it?"

"Yes, but what is he doing here? He should be at work!"

"Lunch break?"

Vernon's footsteps echoed through the hall that led to my room. Each step made me shake with fear. He must have seen Ron's car. What would he do to him? To me?

"Dad?" For once I was happy to hear Dudley's voice. Maybe he could stall—"Is it true? Are you gay?"

I heard no verbal response from Vernon, only a gunshot. A body fell.

I froze in my movements of packing and turned to Ron. "Hide!"

"No," Ron said coldly.

"Why not? He may kill you! He already killed his own son! I don't want to loose you!" I ran forward and grabbed the front of his shirt. My body quaked with fear.

The door to my room opened. Vernon's dark figure stood with a handgun in his right hand. "I knew it. You were planning on leaving me, weren't you, Harry-boy?"

A/N: Why, you ask? BECAUSE I CAN! The next chappy will be a bit more dramatic than the story has been so far. Just because. It may be a little corny, but I don't really care. . .


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